Self-deprecating though he is, Claudius can still accept some compliments gracefully. If he didn't want to be found well-spoken, witty, charming, or handsome, he'd be living a very different life. But for fine man, he manages a flustered, "Thou art too kind." And then at once he redirects, with, "He raised a fine man in Laertes. 'Tis as thou saidst, so long ago: the regrets of men light their path forward. The regrets of his youth make Laertes what he is now -- where the lord chamberlain erred with him, Laertes has found his own light. And thee ..." Lan Wangji, Claudius knows, always had a depth of loyalty in him, for the mother whose home he knelt outside month after month, despite whatever led to her imprisonment there. In another court, it would be a whispered scandal: the wife kept locked away for some unspoken crime by the heartbroken husband. But when the time came for it, Lan Wangji fought against his own clan for the freedom of the man he loved.

"Well," Claudius says, "thou dost know I admire thee. Thou gavest Sizhui the best of thy upbringing, and more, thou gavest him the chance to live anew and free of family shames and expectations. Magnus's life and death both seem filled with complications, and many old gods using their children like pieces in a game of weiqi. Some of his fondest stories involve schemes to circumvent a god trying to sell his daughter into marriage for a sword, or some other self-serving decision divine parents like to make. Thou wilt be a much-welcome and wiser example."